


He's Gone

by EvilAtrocities



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: M/M, Stancest - Freeform, implied Stanchez, implied stancest, stanchez
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 01:32:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6136714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilAtrocities/pseuds/EvilAtrocities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stanley has spent the past few years living with Rick, drinking and snorting cocaine, shooting up heroine, having sex, but Stan doesn't have a single feeling for Rick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's Gone

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very sorry for writing this.. I'm a little upset right now..
> 
> "And the days feel like years when I'm alone.."

  It's the fifth bottle, and he's showing no sign of stopping tonight. Rick watches on with hazed eyes, rolling his tongue over his teeth in silent disapproval. Stan drank with him. Stan took drugs with him. Stan slept with him. But Rick knew in his chest, that there wasn't a single feeling in there for him.

  It was all for "Stanford." Stanley's older brother, his twin. Who was off doing who knows what. While Stan stayed here and drank away, tried to numb his pain, his heartache. Rick didn't mind. Rick needed a fuckbuddy, Rick needed someone to talk to him, distract him from his own pain that he'd never let on, same as Stan.

  "..Sooo what's uh - what's going on in Stan town right now, other than getting shitfaced?" Rick tries, just to try to convince himself that he's doing the right thing.

  "Fuck you."

  "O-oh gee, someone's in a great mood..! S-o Stan, you want any ecstasy with that whiskey or are you just gonna continue to-" A fist slams into the side of his face and catches him off guard. "Ch-Ch-riiiist, Stan! Coulda fucking warned me.. geez, what is your deal tonight-"

  "It's our birthday!" He declares suddenly and Rick flinches, and it doesn't even take him a moment to realize, that Stan wishes he was celebrating with his twin. The lankier male rolls his eyes and rubs at his sore cheek. "S-so how old are you, fuckboy?"

  "Old enough to know when somebody else wants to-to fucking drink alone!" He goes to take another slurp of the alcohol and coughs harshly, the sound making Rick feel nauseous. "O-okay, idiot, you c-coulda drank alone, but if you-if you keep up, you're gonna be dead by morning." Rick goes to pull the bottle from his hands and was met with an angry snarl. Not really wanting to get punched again, he pulls his hands away.

  "..S..s..stupid fucking Rick Sanchez.."

  "Oh my g-good god, Stan, don't fucking put the blame on me right now, I am n-not in the fucking mood."

  "You have _moods?"_ Stan mocks, making a shocked expression at the man with pure sarcasm. Rick grits his teeth and grabs the other by his shirt. "L-listen here, you _fuck!_ You're under **my** roof, you live in **my** house, you eat **my** food! If-if you keep this up I'll kick you and your shit outta here!"

  An ugly laugh meets his threat, alcohol dribbling down Stanley's chin and Rick raises his arm back, prepared to punch the daylights out of his housemate. His arm shakes slightly, anyone else and Rick would've punched by now, but this was Stanley.. the only person Rick found himself, begging to love him. He stares at the brown eyes that are red, and starting to tear up and he feels his heart break, his arm lowering.

  "S..Stan.."

  "I - I just want you to love me back, Sixer.. I just w..want you to come home.. w..why can't you come home..?"

  Rick has never wanted so badly to be someone else before until now. He wishes, practically prays that each morning he'll wake up and he'll _be_ Stanford Pines. He hopes he'll wake up and look exactly like the man Stan hadn't seen for seven years now. He lets go of his shirt as Stanley starts sobbing and Rick's heart breaks further, but he coats it with annoyance.

  "F-fuck you, Stanley, fuck you! St-stop-stop your fuckin' cryin, you lil' bitch!"

  But his words don't help. They don't do anything. Stan doesn't cry harder, but his tears don't let up. Rick moves his thin arms around the stocky male. "..Stanley, baby," he whispers, pressing kisses to the side of his head. "..Stanley, baby, shh.."

  Shaky arms cling back onto Rick, and the smaller man dips his head down and kisses him sweetly, a hand sliding down to start tugging off Stan's pants.


End file.
